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One Last Dance
This is going to be a collab between Skye, Sev, myself, and possibly others. It's going to be about Prom night, and the days leading up to it. A couple seniors, all from different popularity groups, who come together on this one night. I might ask a couple more people to join (e.g. Jen, AK). But anyway, this is a little story that I got an idea about while watching that movie, Prom. My character, a geek, is going to be named Meredith. I'll first write the intro, then Skye, Sev, and possibly the others who are in the collab will write about their character, and the first day hearing about the prom. Here we go. The last enemy to be destroyed is death (talk) 05:19, December 22, 2012 (UTC) topshopoutfit.jpg|Crystal Ann Rienhard. Promdress. Meredith Kennedy Prom Dress.jpg|Meredith Kennedy Prom Dress 135600638749969141z69LNzBIc.jpg|Clair Winters Prom Dress taylormomsengg.jpg|Crystal Introduction: Meredith's POV Prom. The one night where we can all come together. When your popularity status for the past 4 years doesn't matter. Where jocks dance with nerds, and drama queens laugh along with artists and jokesters. Who you were is forgiven. Maybe you won't be remembered as the girl who came in last in the foot race, but as the girl who danced crazy as prom. Maybe the guy who hid in the shadows would be named prom king as a last minute decision. Anything can happen. You might just get your first kiss, or a new friend. That cute guy two lockers down might dance with you. That girl you've always wanted to talk to but never had the courage to might be your friend all night. The quiet girl in the corner of your science class may be singing at the top of her lungs to Lady Gaga, while the nerds dance crazy. Those awkward moments and mean spirited jokes are forgotten, as you all dance as one body under the slow moving disco ball. Everyone is happy. And people like me just might meet the guy of their dreams. I've always dreamed of that one, magical moment. When that guy who i always loved, but never told him, would hold out his hand. Smile, and ask me to dance. I would graciously accept, wearing my prom dress and looking like I never did before. It's every girl's fantasy, but on this one night, it might just be real. This is the story of the one night, that all of us will never forget. The story of how a group of seniors- a biker chick, a geek, a jock, and more- all came together on the glowing dance floor. Clair's POV Whispers anxiously spread across the table like bubbles in the breeze. My face stuffed in front of a scrawny book cover with worn pages and smelling like dust and old leather. The book hangs on to the spine with only a few strings. "Again?" Tash looks at me over her brand new copy of 101 Ways To Do Improvisation. "Yeah, it's classic," I smile. Carved in gold letters spells "Romeo and Juliet" across the old leather cover. Beaten and buffeted by many hands, it's in safe hands now. "Whatever Clair," she says, rolling her new hazel contacts. She sneaks her head back into her book. "Tash, are you kidding me?" "Of course," She laughs. I know she's kidding but she looks like she could kill you with a chainsaw in ten seconds. But she's so funny and sweet, how couldn't I be her friend? Plus, she loves drama, just like I do. "Our play's next week," Tash says, chewing her gum fiercely. "Yeah." She now takes her script out and put's the book on the floor. "You get the lead role don't you?" I ask, leaning across the table to see. "Yep! isn't it great!" She beams. "Yeah," I laugh like a total freak. Well then again, I am a total freak. Just like my crush thinks I am. My crush I could never be with, just saying his name is basically forbidden in our terms. I bet he doesn't even know I exist. Everytime I see him pass by, I get butterflies. My heart skips a beat. But he probably has thousands of girls waiting in line for him to date. or maybe it's just me. Who knows? I can't even try to sit with him. I can't risk abandoning my friends. I carry the scrawny book and my book bag. My high heeled boots clomp on the floor with each and every step. The chain jingles a little sounding like a chorus of shoe sounds. I open my locker and throw books in. I look at myself in the mirror, my red hat covering the top of my copper colored hair. The copper is toned with gold highlights at the tips of my hair. My dress is a dark red with navy flowers. I am about to put my lip-gloss on when Tash runs over to me. "It's him," She squeals pointing. Her crush, Damien smiles at her, and she nearly faints. "Calm down," I smile. "At least you get a smile," I sigh. "Oh cheer up Clair, he'll come back for you," She smiles weakly. Tash knows how much I would love to be with him. But she can't magically make him love me, and if she did I would be a little weirded out. The bell blares for us to get to class. I slam my locker and run upstairs. I hate this running. I look at my watch twenty more seconds. I run harder. I arrive just in time for math, the only class my crush is in. I wanted to sit by him, but I sit next to Tash instead. He waves and I wave back, shocked at why he did that to me. Math class is just a blur, I know math, it's to easy. I draw in my notebook the whole time, the teacher only caring about her lessons. I look at what he's doing, drawing someone's name into the page. That belongs to another heart. Crystals POV. (yOU always NEED skye in a story...Don't you? Well, i must please the masses.) “Dynamite.” I hear the gravely voice scream in my ears. While I unzip my black leather jacket, shuffling my shoulders to rip it off my back. I hear about six loud bangs on my door. And immediately roll my eyes. I walk to the door, and fling it over meaninglessly. “Will you turn it down!” My mother says with a crease between her eyebrows. “I like it loud.” I say indifferently. “Well, I don’t.” She says folding her arms. “You know what I don’t like? Smoking...You know what I found yesterday in SOMEONES underwear drawer?” I say suggestively. “Why were you looking in there?” She says defensively. “For money...Obviously. But, you know what dad doesn’t like?” I say taking a step closer. “Smoking.” She answers quietly. “That’s right, and if I were to...Accidentally slip out th-” I begin. “FINE! God. Just don’t tell him.” She says turning away from the door. I smirk at my victory, and lay on my bed. I flick though my records, while tapping my foot. Sure, the hardcore rock isn’t for everyone. But, no matter how old it is, it never gets old in my eyes. A few seconds later, I hear another knock on my door. I step loudly on the floor, while I hear the chain hanging off my hip rattle. When I open it for a second time, my mother is there with a white casing. To what I’m guessing is a dress. “Ma, I told you. I’m not going.” I say while walking back to my bed, and turning off the music. “I know baby. But, I bought this dress for you an-“ She beings. “Ma, I’m not going okay. Will you drop it please?” I whine. “Not until you see the dress. If you don’t want to wear it, that’s fine. Ill leave you alone. But just…Look at it?” She begs, I sigh, and stand from the bed. “Fine.” I say in monotone. She smiles, and rushes over to the closet, to hang up the sheet covering the dress. And unzips it. “Here” It comes in my sight. Now, i would love to say I hate it but. Its probably the only dress I would ever wear. Its black, with a bulgy pattern of blue and gray running though it. It goes all the way to the floor, but it has a small patch were your bear skin would be exposed, just below the chest. “What do you think?” She asks. I’m not sure how to respond so, I go with someone that meets both our exceptions. “I like it. But, it needs some work. Maybe a leather jacket, defiantly some type of boots.” I say. “No, your not wearing boots. I bought you shoes.” She says. I sigh, she is known for her red, 1940’s looking heals. I bet you that’s exactly what she got me. She pulls out a box from behind the door, and in it. Is heals. As I said, but. Not exactly her type. They have thick leather surrounding the think heal. It has buckles where the ankle would go. Besides the heal, I’m pretty sure I actually have the shoe. “Okay…I do like it.” I say kind of quiet. “So you’re going?” She says with a beaming smile.” “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t have a date. It’s kind of pathetic.” I say. “ Since when have you been one to follow the general consenice?” She says putting the shoes back. “Okay. Ill go.” I say. My mother squeals. Chapter 3: Meredith's POV "Prom. The stupidest thing I've heard of." Quinn rolls her eyes at the sparkly poster plastered onto the wall. She glances at all of the dark red roses around the border of it. "Well, I gotta admit, Mere. At least you did a classy job on the poster." "Thanks, but seriously. The Rose Dance? What kind of theme is that? It's a prom. Not a ball." I grimace at the long twirly skirt that the girl on the poster wears. "The Prom Committee this year was full of those drama geeks. They wanted something 'magical and romantic.'" I use my fingers to form air quotations. "Seriously? Gosh, this school is going downhill." Quinn and I retrieve our books from our lockers after giving the poster one last eye roll. I caught a glance of myself in my locker mirror. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those beauty divas. But I still keep up my appearance. My long blonde hair is bordering right between those corkscrew curls, and the big voluminous curls you see on TV. So of course, I'm stuck with these ugly kinky waves. My mom never gives me any money, and I have to have a job. Therefore, I have no money to spend on myself. This results in split ends, overgrown eyebrows, and unbecoming thick black glasses. "Come on Meredith, class starts in two minutes." Quinn pulled my arm, and I walked with her into the science lab. The room was brightly lit with florescent bulbs, and lab tables were lined up in the front. In the back, several sinks with work surfaces around them were being cleaned. "Lets sit down here." I bring Quinn to the frontmost tables of the room, right where Mr. Caleb taught. The two of us always sat there- you get the best quality notes. I scribble down the homework in my planner, and chat with Quinn about Prom. "Are you even going?" I ask as I sketch a dove on my planner. "Maybe...that is, if...he asks me." Quinn blushes heavily. Our friend, Rick, was her secret crush- and vice versa. I squeezed her hand and smiled. "Of course he will! It's obvious to everyone that you like each other." "Well, what about you? Are you going?" I look down, and think of the red sundress I have in my closet. Hardly good enough for a dance- let alone a ball. "Possibly." I lie evasively. Really, there wasn't one guy who I liked in our whole school. All of them were jerks and idiots. "Honestly, Meredith, if you keep holding out for one of those guys in those novels you read, you're going to be disappointed." "I know." I say quietly, ending the conversation as Mr. Caleb, our 30 year old science teacher, walks in. "Hello students! Today, I'll be handing back your tests." Mr. Caleb says cheerily, much to the general displeasure of the class. Groans and complaints fill the room. "Oh my gosh...I totally failed that test." I think to myself. I give Quinn a nervous look, and bite my lip. She rolls her eyes. "You'll do fine." She mouths. "Now, most of your tests ranged %80... Or lower." Mr. Caleb's eyes rove across the room, giving the gossiping populars in the back a piercing glance, that silenced them quickly. "But," he continues, "There was one %102." "Do you think..." I start to mouth it, but Quinn quickly nods vigorously. "That one was none other than Miss... Meredith Kennedy!" Mr. Caleb flourishes the test paper, and puts it down on my desk. "Thank you." I breathe, relieved, receiving a smile from the young teacher. He hands back the rest of the tests. Quinn receives a %99, to her pleasure, but the rest of the class has not done so well. "This is totally rigged." Growls Tanya Welsh, another empty headed popular girl. "Yeah, Mr. C totally picks favorites." I hear Sev, the head popular, whisper to another girl. The girls, who seemed to have found the comment amusing, giggle and all try to scoot their chairs closer to him. "Now, one of the questions that most got wrong..." Mr. Caleb started going over the test, it i tuned him out with thoughts. Under my desk, I was reading next week's lesson. Mr. Caleb knew, of course, but I found that the populars thought it was quite stupid of me. You know, the same people who have %30 in the class? I really don't pay attention to the lesson, just mindlessly doodle on my planner. Quinn is taking rapid notes, but I had already learned the lesson. When the bell rang, I sat up quickly- so fast I fell out of my seat. The humiliating laughter rang loud, and I blushingly got up and gathered my stuff. At top speed, I ran out of the room, dragging Quinn with me. Crystals POV -Skye I hear the sharp click of the gear shifting into park. I take my backpack hanging from the back of the motorcycle. And get off my bike. My shoes make a clattering sound with the buckles and chains knocking on each other. “No. Efing. Way.” I hear a voice say from behind me. I flick my hair out of the straps from my backpack, and turn around to see a boy. A muscley build, wearing a jock jersey. “Excuse me?” I say in return. “Is this a XL, Iornhead?” He says starting at my baby. “ Yes. It is.” I say wearily taking a step towards the bike. “Your saying, this is a 1957–1985 Xl Iornhead Harley Davison. First year sport star, overhead-value engine, and cast iron heads?” He says in awe. He touches the head light with his finger so gently as if it would give him an electric shock. “ You know your stuff.” I say with a genuine amount of surprise in my voice. “Does this one have the updated engine they create 29 years after?” He says looking at me dead in the eye. “Nope, my babies one hundred percent classic. Her names Shelia.” I say touching her leather seat. “Nice name. She’s pretty sexy. Where did you get her?” My body tenses at the question, luckily, the bell goes off. I jingle the keys in my fingers. “I got to go to class.” I say my eyes darting to the floor. “Oh hey, I’m Andrew. Nice to meet you..?” He leaves the answer open. “See you later.” I avoid the question of my name, and turn around. *** I tap my pen indigently. “Crystal.” I hear the teacher say. I keep my mouth in a line, and tap my pen louder. “Answer the question, or you have detention. Why do you continue to behave this way?” She says. God she’s ugly. She a platinum blond hair, cowering over her wrinkles. Her obvious attempt to cover up them, and prove that she’s younger. “Fine. The object of the battle of thermopile was so the Romans could invade Sparta. The best part was when the Spartans shoved the roman’s continued failed attempts into there face, in a sarcastic and indigent manor. Now, if I’m correct. You are the one who always says, there is so much to learn from history. Now, I’m just copying my heroes, the Spartans. And being a rude, arrogant pig. Now, where am I wrong?” I say a bit to quick for her to understand. Or process. There are laughs from the entire class. Until one disruptive voice speaks up. “That’s smart. But you’re overlooking one vital fact.” I look over to my left, where a girl slouches in her chair. I’ve seen her around. Shes kind of quiet usually. I scowl and answer. “What’s that?” “Eventually, the roman’s overtook the Spartans. Killed them all. Every. Last. One.” Everyone silences while I stare down the smart aleck. There’s a obvious tension between the girl and I. How dare she challenge me? It was a smart answer though. Deep inside, I admire here unique confidence. Here I am, make up as black as the night. Wearing the most menacing boots you can find. Chains, and pointy things all over my outfit. And yet she still has the nerve to speak up. I have a odd kind of respect for the bookworm. I blow a bubble, and turn back to the teacher. “Well, at least I know someone’s reading the material.” The teacher mumbles. I knew she would back down. “But, you both have detention after class.” Or not.. Chapter 5: Meredith's POV I twirl around in a rather long silky dress. The red fabric was nothing short of gaudy, and I couldn't understand the point of the long scoop back. "Its cute!" remarked Quinn. She glanced at my reflection as she tried on a dark blue dress, herself. "A bit long, though." Bunching up the fabric, I retreated back into my dressing room cubicle. Long was an understatement. I couldn't walk without stepping on it! "I don't think I'll ever find the right dress." I groan. "Everyone will laugh, no matter how much like Cinderella I try to look." "Turning yourself into a princess right before prom- isn't that every girl's dream?" a voice mused from the cubicle over. I slipped on a plain white dress and stepped out from my stall. A petite brown haired girl peeked out from hers at the same time. "You're...Clair, right?" I looked at the emerald green dress she wore, that was practically wearing her. "You're in my...FACS class. And on prom committee." She was one of the drama geeks who voted for the Rose Ball idea. "Um, yeah. Meredith." Clair stumbled over the words as if she suddenly realized we were face to face. "I was just talking out loud, sorry." She adjusted her glasses and started to turn back. "No! I mean, I totally understand. Yeah. It would be nice." I tried a half hearted grin. Clair blushed, her mousy hair sticking up a bit. "What are you trying on?" Clair stepped out of her dressing room, and showed off the rather uncomfortable looking dress she was wearing. "Not crazy about it." Clair sighed, rubbing the thick sweater material on the dress. It was a rather drab shade of light brown, with dull gray accents and an awkward belt. "My mom told me brown brings out the gold in my hair, but I don't see it." "Ever tried a blue dress?" I hurried over to the other racks and pulled a bright turquoise one out. "I think it would bring out your eyes. Which should really be the main attraction." I passed the dress to her, grabbing a new dress for myself in the process. "O-oh. No. I don't think I could pull this off." Clair stuttered nervousely, looking at the pretty dress before her. "It's too lovely." "You don't know until you try!" Quinn checked her watch, and started to pull me away from the dressing rooms. "Oh it's time? Gotta go! See you at prom comittee!" Category:Collaboration Category:Realistic Fiction